Gin and Manservants
by BalloonWitBlueGlassesObviously
Summary: read before you judge, I can't write summaries. Au, set in 1906, Draco Malfoy is sent to spend his summer at the Parkinson estate in preparation for the arranged marriage of him and Pansy, but there happens to be a few problems. One sided pansy x draco, probably drarry in the future when I can figure out the plot properly


A/N HOLA! This is my third fic, and it came about from this nasty woman who wouldn't write a sequel to the best drarry fic I ever read.

I like OOC Draco, because he's more compatible with Harry I figure, I write Draco to be bitter inside, but polite and humble despite his family status due to the way his parents treat him. Which isn't very well, and that gives him stuff in common with Harry. Anyway, let me know how to improve, hope you like, no idea where this fic is going, but read and review guys! :D

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The year is 1906, a time of political experimentation and cultural revivals throughout the world, 8 years prior the horrors of the first world war. The older 19th century values and traditions have been slowly recessing, as everywhere across the globe people face conflicts of ideals and ways of life in all forms, betwixt generations and nations everywhere. Women's rights, radical political theorists and revolutionaries, art and design- automobiles! The world is changing post industrialisation, becoming a modern world. But not everyone is glad for it, some families maintain a traditional approach...

_The day is June 19th in the 1906 th year of our lord and I must say the decor in these carriages is most pleasant! Butter-soft black leather seats imported from Italy, __so my Father told me! And dark mahogany desks and ivory decorations and ornamentals... It does make me wish I could persuade mother to be more avant-garde __in her fashion tastes!_

Draco paused writing to brush off some imaginary dust from the lapels on his jacket self-consciously and straighten his tie as his mother had caused him to worry that morning, muttering profusely about impressions and family money and how with this marriage the Malfoys would have greater influence in the south-east to support their game plans for dominating industrial trade in London.

All about money you see, his mother and father, Draco reflected.

_I really am... apprehensive, about this meeting. I'm told by Mother that myself and Pansy got on extraordinarily well while we were younger, apparently we __were good friends, and our parents were always keen on marrying us off together at the first opportunity to support their business pursuits. But that was a long __time ago, and I in all honesty can't remember a thing of her. What if she doesn't take a shine to me? We surely haven't met in quite the while and there's no way __to know how much we've grown to differ; she could be interested in other men, perhaps someone from her school, whom she had grown up with, yes! And then, _ _whilst our meeting would be awkward for obviously not being willing to like each other in that way, we could promise to refuse all attempts by our parents to __marry us, -or run away! Yes! Then we could go our separate ways, and live the lives we want to live, our way- flee the testing life style that I've been born into, go _  
_to Europe, see the world, not from a dirty window, views clogged and obscured by murky, petulant, choking smog, but with my hands, and my eyes, to see for __real-_

"Excuse me sir, would you care for a drink?" Draco looked up from penning his journal with an erratic hand that could barely keep up with his daydreams to face the man addressing him, a man servant who smelt vaguely of tobacco leaves and wore a very white shirt, and attempted to school his emotions behind a plain face. Instead Draco just looked irritated.

"Oh yes, now that you mention it, I am quite parched. What would you recommend? And how much longer is the journey now, do you suppose?" A sudden bump caused the dark but homey carriage to shake, Draco's slicked-back hair to bop gently on the back of the seat and the expensive dark wood cabinets to rattle their contents.

The waiter smiled, "I've received quite the number compliments about our Bronx, sir."

"Oh splendid, but what is Bronx? I've never heard of it, is it a new cocktail of some invention?" Draco ran his hand over the soft leather, sitting forward on his seat and placed his journal on the table in front of him.

"Orange juice, Vermouth and Gin, sir, if they are too your liking; or we have a selection of wines,"

"I'll have a Bronx, then, please," Draco smiled a little as he took his wallet from his pocket and placed a crown on the table beside his journal and asked the waiter to keep the change and excuse him as he got up and stalked around the carriage for the restroom. The decorations were beautiful, all assortments of old carved horns and animal skins from exotic places. No doubt purchasing this train ticket had cost his father a lot of money, but then draco realised his father was probably just trying to condition and manipulate him into taking better to his potential future wife by putting him in a pleasant mood.

Five minutes later, Draco was musing about Pansy and the dark green colour of the walls in the carriage while staring idly out of the window, angling his face to get the furthest distance before the train visible, he was so eager to be able to stretch his legs at the station. He sipped his Bronx and was assaulted with the violent choking smell of gin and harsh burning taste. Draco defiantly drank it anyway though, remembering how his father would never allow him to drink spirits at his age.

Staying at the Parkinson's house for the summer would be... interesting. Or that's what Draco had told his mother in reply to her asking him a few weeks prior- although Draco knew too well it was never really a question, and that he had no choice.

Damn my parents and their manipulations, he thought. Why can't I just decide who I want to marry? Pansy may be a very nice girl, and it might be advantageous to our family name, but what if I hate her? I'd have to spend the rest of my life with her! Give her an heir and a spare, work long hours managing mills- what kind of a life is that?

_Not_ the life I want.

Out of nowhere Draco was startled from his thoughts by a shrill whistle and a loud chugging noise followed by a series of bumps. A stop. He sighed, reluctantly leaving the hugging embrace of the lovely sofas and stood with a lassitude that he held both his parents and their machinations and the long journey responsible for. No relief flooded him like he had expected, only a light queasiness in his chest at the prospect of meeting his potential future wife.

"Lucky you, Draco," he muttered to himself.

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Please review and let me know what you think! :D Even flames are okay yay~


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